Drama Kid Drabbles
by crazybeagle
Summary: A series of theatrical drabbles and one-shots that I shall update at random. Will include everything from Shakespeare to Wicked to A Chorus Line. I will accept prompts or requests for later chapters. So far I have Chicago and RENT.
1. Harry & Ike

**Drama Kid Drabbles**

This will be a series of theatrical drabbles and one-shots, to be updated whenever I want. I wanted to do the famed "Wicked 100", but I don't think I could muster up the time or energy to do that many _Wicked_ drabbles, so I'm just going to do stuff based on a bunch of different musicals and plays I like. I'm starting with _Chicago_.

**Chapter 1**

"**Harry & Ike", A **_**Chicago**_** One-Shot**

…_You can like the life you're livin', you can live the life you like_

_You can even marry Harry, and mess around with Ike…_

_And that's good, isn't it? _

Sometimes Roxie Hart wondered how good it really was. She had done just that. She'd married her Harry: dumb, sweet, gullible Amos, who doted on her like a simpering little lapdog. And she'd messed around with Ike. Fred Casely. And _that_ had just turned out marvelously, hadn't it? She'd landed herself a spot on murderess' row where she barely escaped a hanging, had all her chances at fame and stardom forever snatched away from her, and was now stuck with Little Miss Has-Been Velma Kelley trying to scrape up a meager living on the bare edges of Chicago's vaudeville scene. And all because that lout had walked out on her.

Vaudeville had lost its appeal for Roxie, anyway. It was all just noise and color to her. But Velma still dared to dream that someday they would make it big. Chicago today, New York tomorrow, she said. Hollywood. Paris. She knew Velma had once been well on her way to all those things, and was desperate to regain some of her former glory. She let Velma dream, and she did what she could to help. She danced. She sang. She flirted with bartenders. But it was all meaningless. To the audience, they were just two more pretty faces.

Except to Amos. Desperate, sniveling Amos, who still insisted on following her around. He came to all her shows, sitting in the crowd, watching her dance with an expression like a doleful basset-hound. He never tried to speak to her afterwards. He would just stare at her for a moment as the stage lights dimmed, looking not at her petite, sequin-covered body like everyone else, but at her face, longing clear in his eyes. He would then turn on his heel, a dejected look on his own face, and slink unnoticed out of the building and into the night.

She and Velma always had a good laugh about it afterwards. Poor, pathetic Amos had still not given up on her. One night, Velma even jokingly offered to follow him into a side alley and shoot him for her, saying that another homicide trial could give them another dose of the publicity they were craving, regardless of the fact that Mr. Flynn had only just managed to get them both acquitted last time. Roxie had smiled faintly at this, knowing that Velma wouldn't dare to do it anyway, but as she sat alone in her dressing room later that night, she could not deny that Velma's words had made her uneasy for some reason.

But eventually, Amos stopped coming. And to her astonishment, Roxie found that she missed him.


	2. Subway

"**Subway", A **_**RENT **_**Oneshot**

**Post-musical RENT fluff. If I have some of the details off, remember that this is my first RENT fic and that I've only seen the movie, so consider it a movieverse fic. **

**By the way, I'm not planning on writing any RENT fics anytime soon, but ToThoseWhoGroundMe is going to collaborate with me to write one, though it'll be more her work than mine as she's the one actually writing it. **

_December 25, 1990. 1:32 AM._

"Mark, turn that goddamn thing off!" Mimi whined.

"No! This is good stuff!" I said, zooming in on her and on Roger, who laughed. We were all on the subway, on our way to bring Mimi to the hospital. She had insisted that she didn't need to go, and that this was _not_ the way she wanted to spend her Christmas Eve, but Roger wouldn't hear it. We practically had to drag her out the door. For awhile, she'd sat with her arms crossed in the corner of the dingy little subway car, pouting, but eventually Roger came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, and she smiled reluctantly and leaned back against him.

Right now, he was rocking her gently back and forth and softly singing "Hey Jude" into her ear. Collins, sitting nearby, was singing along, harmonizing in his low, gravelly voice. Mimi's eyelids were drooping.

I smiled and turned the camera to Maureen and Joanne, who were stretched across three seats and, ah, engaging in behaviors considered indecent for a public transit system.

"Get a room," I muttered.

Joanne looked up and rolled her eyes. "Go to hell, Mark."

Maureen giggled and pulled Jo's head back down. "C'mon, pookie! Kiss for the camera!"

A couple sitting in the corner, the only other people in the subway car besides us, were staring at the two of them, disgust clear on their faces. Maureen smiled sweetly at them, gave them the finger, and proceeded to make out with Joanne.

"What are you gonna use that footage for, anyway?" Roger asked. "Planning on doing another yearlong documentary?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Okay, but turn it off when we get there, please," Mimi yawned. "I don't want to be filmed hooked up to all the tubes and wires and shit."

Collins' mouth became a thin line when she said this. I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to go near another hospital as long as he lived. I had pulled him aside before we left and offered to stay home with him if he wanted, but he'd insisted on going anyway, for Mimi's sake. He didn't look happy about it, but I could see a sort of calm acceptance in his eyes when he said he'd come along. It wouldn't be easy for him, going back to the place where he had lost Angel, but I could tell that he would be okay.

"I'll put it away. Don't worry."

Mimi glanced at Collins. "Not that they'll hook me up to stuff anyway," she said quickly. "Because I'm _fine_, remember?" She craned her neck to glare up at Roger.

"I know, babe," Roger said soothingly, lacing his fingers between hers. "We're just making sure."

"You suck," she growled. "But I love you anyway."

"They'll probably kick us all out anyhow," I said.

"Why?"

"We don't look frantic enough to be taking someone to the ER."

"They'll probably just think we're drunk," Maureen laughed.

"Drunk from the joy of a Christmas miracle," I said with a dramatic sweep of my arms.

"Aww, how Dickensian of you," Joanne said dryly.

Collins smiled. "Cheers."

Roger kissed Mimi on the cheek. "Mm-hmm."

When our stop came close, I packed up the camera, then sat back down and stared out the window. Roger helped Mimi stand up.

Maureen's voice brought me out of my reverie. "Whatcha thinkin' about, Marky?"

"Hm?" I said absently.

"You look all contemplative," she said, grinning.

I shrugged. "Not really. I was just thinking... This has been a pretty good year, hasn't it?"

She tugged the end of my scarf. "Yeah. It has been."

**REVIEW YOU FIENDS!**


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